


The nuts and bolts that make it work

by TheSSChestHair



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6747019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSSChestHair/pseuds/TheSSChestHair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not always pretty. It's not always puffs of magic and romance; sweeping gestures of fairytale living. But with time, they realise it's the little things  that matter most as they make it work. <br/>- Emma and Killian work at building a life together in their new home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The nuts and bolts that make it work

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd so apologies if there's a ton of mistakes!

**MONTH 1**

 

She can’t sleep the first few nights they set up home. He has a habit of working his way as close to her as possible during the night, and while it can be comforting and make her feel safe, some nights she just needs a bit of room to be able to move rather than balance on the edge of the bed where he’s gravitated too close.

She knows he can’t help it – he probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it. It’s going to take her some time to get used to it.

After the fourth time, she’s huffing and dragging herself out of bed and down the stairs to the couch.

She wakes up to him hovering near her sleeping form, worry written all over his face.

She smells coffee from the steaming cup placed on the table in front of her.

“Have I done something to upset you?” He asks with hesitance.

“Of course not. Why would you think that?” she’s confused as well as still half asleep.

He glances at the blankets and pillows around her.

“You’re sleeping on the couch, Emma.” She can sense the hurt in his tone.

She smiles and pats the space next to her, which he fills almost immediately.

“It’s not you – well, it is, but it’s not a bad thing.”

“You’ve lost me.”

She takes his hand in hers.

“Killian. Has anyone ever told you that you hog the bed?” she asks with humor.

“Ah.” He scratches the back of his ear, clearly embarrassed.

“You should wake me in future, I loathe to think of you escaping to this monstrosity just to get some shut eye.”

“You don’t like the couch?” she asks, slightly offended and veering off topic.

It earns her a glare from him.

“Perhaps we can try switching sides of the bed?” he offers, ignoring her previous question.

“I suppose.” She grumbles, “I’m just kind of used to being on the left side. But if it stops you pushing me off the bed completely…” she teases him, which earns her an eye roll.

They try sleeping on the opposite side of the bed that night and it works. They both end up meeting in the middle most nights, Emma spooning Killian more often than expected.

 

 

**MONTH 2**

He places the plate of spaghetti Bolognese onto the table just as he hears her open the front door. He rushes to place a knife and fork down beside it as her voice grows louder with every step she nears the kitchen. She’s on the phone to someone and she’s clearly not happy to be.

He waits patiently at the other side of the table for her to wrap up her conversation and join him for dinner.

He’s feeling slightly proud of himself tonight, being able to cook from scratch with no mishaps. It’s not perfect but it’s not a disaster either, and he’s eager to find out if Emma likes it.

He wants to at least have dinner with her before he has to meet the guys at the rabbit hole.

He double checks the kitchen counters, making sure he’s put away all the left over ingredients he’d used while she continues to hover and babble into her phone.

He shouldn’t be amused at her annoyed expression as she attempts over and over to finish the conversation she’s having.

She finally says goodbye and takes a seat, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Rough day?” he asks as they start to eat.

“Don’t.” she warns as she spins her fork into her meal, causing him to chuckle.

The fork doesn’t make it to her lips before her phone is ringing again. She lets out a frustrated cry as she picks it up and begins to speak. She gives him a hand gesture, indicating to him to finish eating as she exits the kitchen to take the call elsewhere.

Killian eats slowly, hoping she’ll join him again soon so he can see her reaction to his attempts. It’s not often he experiments with cooking but he knew she’d been having a hard week at work and wanted to show her he was just as capable of looking after her as she does him.

He’s impressed with the way his vegetables have remained somewhat crunchy and not turned to mush within the thick sauce. His spaghetti isn’t too shabby either.

He finishes and washes up the remaining dishes in the sink, leaving her dinner where it is for her to finish.

He glances at the clock as he dries his hands. It’s nearing 8pm and she still hasn’t finished on the phone.

He sighs somewhat disappointed.

He has to head out.

He puts on his jacket and stifles a laugh as Emma appears, miming a ‘kill me’ towards him.

“I’m off to meet Robin, love.” He murmurs quietly to her.

She nods and kisses him quickly as he passes.

“Of course I’m still listening.” She strains down the phone.

He decides that he won’t stay out too long. He’d like to spend some quiet time with her before she goes to sleep, and he hates to think of her going to bed angry.

He returns later to her fast asleep already, causing him to tiptoe around as he gets ready for bed, desperate not to wake her.

He’s pulled into an embrace as he finally climbs under the covers.

“Dinner was wonderful, thank you.” She tells him, voice full of sleep.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“You prepared it all yourself?” she asks.

“Aye.”

“Proud of you.” She mumbles, placing a sleepy kiss to his bicep.

Killian soars with pride and love, and cant keep the smile off his face as he snuggles down with her and holds her tight as she drifts off once again, following her soon after.

 

**MONTH 4**

 

He started on the laundry before she’d left for work. It’s now lunchtime and she’s returned home to find the washing machine still active, surrounded by ridiculous piles of clothing.

One small pile of her underwear, one small pile of dark shirts, one pile of black jeans, one pile of light sweaters – what on earth is he doing?

He appears behind her, surprised to find her there.

“Killian, what is all this?”

“Dirty laundry.” He responds cheekily.

“But why have you got it all in silly little groups? Do you realize how much water and detergent you’re wasting on four socks and a handful of thongs? Don’t even get me started on electricity-”

“According to the television, the earth’s made up of 70% water so I doubt we’re in short supply. And as for funding, we’re hardly scraping by.” He defends himself.

“That’s not the point, and don’t be a smart-ass.” She scolds him.

“I’ve separated them into specific groups according to the times and temperatures they need to be washed in.”

“When you offered to do this, I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously. Just put it all in the machine.” She instructs as she begins to collect the piles together and place them in the washer.

“Emma, stop it.”

He surges forward and stops her, pulling the items back out.

She turns to him, shocked at his insistence.

“What is your problem?!”

“I want to this done properly.” He demanded, standing his ground.

That hurts her and she doesn’t know why.

“Oh! So my cleaning skills aren’t up to scratch? Is that it?! You’ve worn the same outfit for _three hundred years_ – you didn’t even know what a washing machine _was_ six months ago… and now you decide to be a snob?” she snarks at him.

 

“I just want to put a bit more time and care into our appearance. Why are you attacking me over this?!” he pleaded.

 

“Because you’re acting like my clothing _offends_ your clothing, dividing them all into segregated piles. I’m sorry my _lowly_ underwear mixed in with your _snooty_ shirts, but when you’ve grown up surviving the way I did, you don’t really _have_ time to learn about proper laundry etiquette!” she ranted, dripping with sarcasm.

 

“I’m well aware of your upbringing, the same way you’re fully aware of mine. But we’re not those people anymore, Emma! Forgive me for wanting to take a bit more pride in the way we appear today.” Killian finally lost his temper.

 

“You know what – do what you want. I need to get back to work.” She huffs as she storms out of the house, ignoring his calls from inside.

It’s late evening when she returns to an empty house. The place is spotless and there’s a plate wrapped in foil waiting for her on the side.

She checks upstairs, already knowing she won’t find him there. She does find her clean clothes, expertly folded and hung up in their rightful places. They smell gorgeous and she’s suddenly hit with just how ridiculous their fight was.

Emma wastes no time in grabbing her keys and heading back out knowing exactly where to find him.

She boards the Jolly Roger and he’s already across the deck, meeting her half way.

“I’m sor-”

He shakes his head, stopping her apology. He smiles and lifts his arm to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her in.

She realizes that there’s no apologies needed. He’s feeling just as ridiculous as her and there’s no need to talk it out – it’s over and already forgotten.

“You done hiding out here?” she asks him playfully.

“Quite the contrary” he chuckles “I’d decided to check on her while I waited for you to finish work and seemed to lose track of time.” He explained, giving the ship a pat with his hook.

“Well, if she’s all ship-shape, can we go home now? I’m freezing.”

She doesn’t admit to him that she prefers his method of washing clothes, purely because she finds his method a waste of resources. But when she feels how soft he manages to get her sweaters and how he keeps the color from fading in her jeans, she has no problem with making him the one in charge of that specific chore from now on.

 

**MONTH 6**

She massages shampoo into his scalp as he hums in approval from his position in between her legs. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t get personal satisfaction out of running her hands though his soft locks.

She eases him forward a little, allowing her to gather some water into a bath jug and rinse the suds from his head.

He leans back again and claims his place against her wet chest.

They soak in the steaming water, both basking in the heat of the bath and each other.

“Razor.” He asks her as he holds his hand up.

She hands him the item and watches as his left arm lifts her leg above the water, and his right hand glides the razor along her leg in careful strokes.

He enjoys doing this for her, just as much as she enjoys washing his hair.

She doesn’t know when this became a regular occurrence for them but she finds she doesn’t mind sharing a bath with him at all.

It’s intimate.

Just as intimate as the time they share between the sheets of their bed.

It makes her feel closer to him – another level of trust between them built up over the past few months. Sharing even more parts of themselves with each other with care and acceptance.

Her hands find his shoulders and begin kneading into them, causing him to moan in pleasure and his head to roll back onto her collar bone. She slides them forward, reaching for the floating sponge and rubs it lazily along his chest, enjoying the way his chest hair flattens out against his skin with aid from the water.

They could stay like this all night if they could, but the water’s starting to cool and there’s a slight chill gathering in the room.

He pulls the plug, draining away their bubbly mess as they stand to rinse away the excess under the spray of the hot shower.

They linger longer than necessary, trading slow, sensual kisses before wrapping themselves in towels and heading to the bedroom.

He takes his time brushing out her hair, placing kisses on her shoulder when he’s finished.

They fall asleep as she traces patterns onto his bare back with her fingertips.

 

 

**MONTH 8**

 

He’s been in a mood for the past two days. Every time she’s asked him what’s wrong, he gives her the same false smile and assures her it’s nothing.

She knows it’s something.

They haven’t spent much quality time together lately, taking it in turns to return home late to find the other already asleep. It’s horrible and she misses him, but there’s trouble in town that has both of them working their asses off.

He’s woken her twice in the middle of the night, smothering her with hot kisses and roaming hands – and while she appreciates the gesture, he should know that waking her from her sleep is the ultimate offense and _will_ land him a shove and a growl of annoyance before she turns back to sleep.

She misses sex. She definitely misses sex with him – but they just haven’t found the time lately and she’s just as frustrated.

She catches Killian examining himself in the full-length mirror of their bedroom, frown on his face as he tenses and releases his abdomen, turns his hips from side to side, prods at his-

He doesn’t react the way she’d expect him to when she announces her presence. Instead of giving her the ego-fuelled flirty remarks she’d expect, he grabs the discarded towel from the bed and wraps it around himself.

He’s embarrassed and annoyed and she doesn’t know why. He ducks into the bathroom and locks the door before she can find out.

If he won’t open up, she’s not going to force him, but she’s also sick of his defensive and evasive attitude.

 

He approaches her later that night in the living room.

“Emma… are you happy?” he asks her as he sits beside her reclining form.

“No I’m completely miserable.” She responds with sarcasm.

She sits up and puts down her case file when she sees his frown.

“Of course I’m happy.” She assures him.

“But are you…. Do I satisfy you?”

She’s confused and slightly worried as to where these questions are coming from.

“Kilian, I think it’s safe to say that I’m a very satisfied woman. Where is all this coming from?” she urges him to explain.

He takes a moment and pulls out his cell phone with reluctance and hands it to her.

“I received one of those email messages from a doctor. He’s offering me special pills with medicinal properties to enhance my erm… and while I’m quite confident in my performance, there were some pictures provided – I was rather unaware of the size of the anatomy this realm’s men seem to have.” He explained.

Emma wanted to laugh, she really did, but the shameful and self-depreciating look on his face was killing her.

“And while I also know you’ve certainly enjoyed yourself with me… I know you- we haven’t… lately we hav-”

“Oh, Killian.” She sighs as she straddles his waist and cups his face in her hands, kissing every inch of it. “That email is what we call a spam email.” She explained.

He looked at her confused, clearly not understanding.

“It’s lies. They get sent to everyone. Even _I’ve_ had those types of emails and I don’t own a penis. It’s not real. It’s just a terrible scam to try and steal your money.”

He relaxed a little at her explanation, feeling more foolish than concerned.

“I did wonder if it was hoax, something one of the lads may have set up.” He ponders. “Though I’d doubt they’d be so bold as to set up something so graphic.”

 

“Let me also be very clear about something. You have _nothing_ to worry about. Those pictures? Not real either. You measure up quite well Mr Jones, trust me.” She stressed, sending him a sultry gaze. “We’ve just had really crappy timing lately. There’s been so much going on – it’s neither one of our faults.” She pulls his face to look her in the eye. “You are all I could ever want. And the day I don’t want you, you better call an exorcist and save me.” She orders with faux seriousness.

“Is that so?”

And just like that, her Killian was back.

They spent the rest of the night proving just how satisfying they both could be on that very same couch.

They were late meeting everyone the next morning, missing a number of calls but on this particular occasion they couldn’t seem to care.

 

 

**MONTH 10**

 

“He’s becoming a man, Emma. You can’t smother the room in childish paraphernalia any more.” Killian sighed.

“It’s just a bedding set.”

“Aye, love, an emasculating one at that.”

Emma glared daggers at him.

They had decided to redecorate Henry’s room while he was at Regina’s, converting it into a more age appropriate space. He was due home in a few hours and they’d almost finished.

They’d fitted him in a sturdy dark wooden desk, perfect for homework and writing. The walls had been painted a muted teal the day before, replacing the loud blues prior.

A brand new double bed occupied the space his previous single bed used to be.

A new laptop and bookshelves also donned the room, giving it a more sophisticated and mature feel.

“It’s a comic bedding set. He still likes his comics.” Emma pointed out, getting frustrated with the man.

“But it doesn’t exactly go with what we’ve done to the place does it?” he continued to argue.

“God! He’s allowed to still be young! You’re acting like he’s now doomed to tweed suits, coffee and the weather channel, just because he’s growing up.” Emma vented.

“And you’re being rather stubborn in your reluctance to _let_ him grow up.” He snapped back.

“You are such a pain in the ass.” She muttered as she went to fixing books onto the shelves. “I’m dreading what you’re going to be like when we start on the nursery.” She froze as she realized what she’d revealed amidst her rant.

She turned to find him boring a hole into her with his eyes.

“Emma? What nursery?” he asked, slowly approaching her.

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” She explained, regretfully.

“Love, are you- are we?” a simple nod of her head confirmed for him.

He pulled her into his arms and held her tight as she returned the gesture.

“How long have you known?”

“Just a couple of days.”

He held her face as he placed a soft kiss to her lips. Their foreheads rested against each other as they let their news soak in.

“We’re having a baby?”

“We are.”

“I’m going to be a father?”

“You are.” She beamed

“Can I tell Dave?”

That earned him a smack to the arm. He wasted no time lifting her up and spinning her in his arms as she squealed and giggled at his antics.

 

 

**MONTH 20**

 

Killian sat against the headboard, arms wrapped around Emma’s abdomen while she lay against him, holding their son as he suckled on her breast.

The room was silent.

Both parents were drowsy and exhausted, but with their eyes basking in the sight of the little bundle they’d created, their faces showed it was worth it.

Emma closed her eyes in content as she felt Killian’s lips kiss the side of her face, holding her and the baby closer.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispered into her ear, completely in awe of the sight encircled within his arms.

“I love you.” He continued, not letting her go.

“I love you too.” She returned.

“This is our life now, Emma.” He thought aloud.

“Are you happy?” she asked him.

“There are no words that could define the euphoria I feel for what you’ve given me.” He confessed.

“Just a simple yes would have worked.” She teased.

“Are you happy?” he asked in return.

She looked at her son, silently taking his fill and then turned her head to take in the man behind her.

“Couldn’t be happier.” She smiled.

“Good.”

 


End file.
